


In sickness..

by Maria_and_her_books



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Sickfic, is it fluff is it a sickfic? who knows?, robbie doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_and_her_books/pseuds/Maria_and_her_books
Summary: A certain Elf is suspiciously absent during flu-season.
Relationships: Robbie Rotten/Sportacus
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	In sickness..

In sleep Sportacus was still.

Robbie didn't like it.

He suppressed the urge to get up and check the Elf's temperature again. 

The ship had assured him that the fever had gone down but Robbie was still rattled by how sick Sportacus had been the day before when Robbie had boarded the ship.

When Robbie had found him, Sportacus had been burning up, eyes glassy , tossing and turning while muttering in a language Robbie did not understand. 

For a long moment Robbie had stood next to the bed, hand outstretched but not daring to touch. 

Sweat on the hero's forehead as Sportacus shivered, pale lips dry and cracked, breath rattling and wheezing. And then he'd coughed, the sound wet and painful. 

Tremors wracked his body as he fought to breathe and Robbie had swept him in an awkward embrace, held Sportacus up as he gasped and struggled, soothingly rubbed the hero's back.

Terrible moments passed and Robbie wondered how he'd never noticed how much smaller the Elf was. Something strange and alarming tugged at his heart as he held Sportacus in his arms and waited for the Elf to settle a bit. Sportacus leaned into Robbie as if he could trust him, as if Robbie would keep him safe.

Gently Robbie brushed soft curls away from where they damply stuck to the hero's temples. Feverbright eyes did not seem to see him and worriedly Robbie put a hand to the man's forehead. Sportacus moaned softly, turned into the coolness. 

Robbie had been impersonating doctors and nurses all through his career. Leave the sloppy halfhearted preparations for amateurs and residents, as Master of Disguise, he'd fervently studied to present himself as a knowledgeable medical professional.

He had to bring Sportacus' temperature down he remembered. Carefully he propped Sportacus up on his pillows. Grumbled under his breath as he searched the ship for the things he'd need and, miracle of miracles, the ship obliged him. Robbie yelped and jumped as the AI opened cupboards and doors by itself.

Returning to the bed Robbie hoped his bad memory would serve him right for once, he could do with forgetting the whole ordeal of undressing Sportacus, wiping him down with luke-warm water and wrestling him into loose breathable clothing. 

The memory of a well-defined chest could stay though. 

Soft and worn sweats, too long sleeves on an obviously well-loved hoodie. Who knew that the Elf did possess more outfits than that obnoxious blue uniform?  
Socks that were clearly homeknitted, mossy green and soft as thistledown. Cradled in Robbie's big hands Sportacus ankle looked strangely vulnerable .

A bewildering thump in his chest and Robbie looked away. He was unsettled by how much feelings all this made him feel. He did not like it. Would not dare to examine said feelings and actually name them. 

Sheets changed and Sportacus comfortably settled Robbie stood back. There was nothing he could do now but wait and he did not have to stay for that.

Robbie worried his lip as he thought.

...he had to rub it in that he had dastardly infiltrated the hero's ship didn't he? ...and... and Sportacus had to be awake for that! Sportacus had to concede defeat for once! So he hád to stay and look after his nemesis for a little longer. Ha, how truly villainous of him!

So Robbie waited. 

And waited...

...

...for half an hour.

Seriously, where was the furniture?! If he was to stay and look after this nuisance of an Elf he should at least have somewhere to sit. 

A snap of his fingers and his recliner blinked into existence. He felt strangely vindicated as its bright colour clashed with the austere interior of the airship. 

With a satisfied sigh he settled in, reached in the sidepocket of the chair for the chocolate nibbles that held enough sugar to make the AI wail in horror.

Now he could wait.

\-----------

Half an hour later and he was rearranging the Sportacus' bookshelves. The sight of the disaster to happen that the Elf called his bookcase had unsettled him enough to take the entire contents down. Quite an easy task he found, he only had to touch one book and the whole mess had literally thundered down, scattered themselves all over the floor and Robbie.

Rubbing at his new bruises Robbie tiredly wondered if he wrongly remembered a song about tidying up. 

Bookcase alphabetically rearranged, second letter of the author's middle name of course, he sat back with a satisfied sigh, stared bleary-eyed at the bed. Sportacus had curled on his side, was unsettling still in sleep. 

The AI loudly informing him of Sportacus' vitals startled him out of the troubling contemplation that not all quietness and inactivity were good things. His growling stomach determined his next action. 

Food. 

A quick search of the ship and some pointed questions later he wondered if Sportacus living on fruit and raw vegetables was the Elvish' equivalent of a student's affair with ramen. Grumbling under his breath he looked at the sleeping hero. How could one cook without a kitchen?! All that cooking by the book propaganda, clear lies to lead those dear ...noisy brats astray.

He nearly missed Sportacus' drowsy mumbling, the hoarse, unexpectedly charming, plea startling a laugh out of him. 

Sportacus would have to eat something too when he woke. Robbie remembered how Glanni used to make chickensoup for him when he was ill.

Some handwavy moment and a campingstove and supplies appeared next to Sportacus' pantry. Soon the savory aroma of simmering chickensoup warmed him through. The ship was cóld and he hunched in on himself, scowled up at the ceiling and complained quietly as the heat of the bowl warmed his chilled fingers. 

\-----------

_He remembered gentle hands. A cool cloth on his brow. His mother? Mild scolding that he didn't properly look after himself, "....not taking off your shoes! What are you, an animal?"...._

_That deep voice, warm and exasperated._

_No, not his mother._

_Still he felt safe. Cared for._

_\-----------_

_Strong hands holding him upright. He let his head rest against a bony shoulder,_

_"...you should wear something more breathable than that obnoxious uniform. There you go, now your other arm..."_

_His eyes fell shut and dazedly he let himself be dressed._

_"...and please be wearing boxers or I am not changing your trousers for pyjamapants..."_

_Iprottaalfurinn was all bark and no bite. Sportacus smiled to himself. But the voice was too deep to be his brother's..._

_\-----------_

_"...just a small sip." Cool water. Swallowing hurt his throat and he shook his head, the movement making him dizzy. He breathed shallowly._

_A quiet voice coaxing him to take another sip and he'd never been able to tell this one no, not when he'd glimpsed the well-hidden softness that was this one's heart._

_\-----------_

_"...and why is there no kitchen? Are you really living on raw vegetables and fruits?"_

_"Don't tell mom."_

_Startled laughter._

_He had never heard this laugh and yet it felt so infinitely familiar. He wanted to hear it more often. He wanted..._

\-----------

The fog in his head cleared at last and the world rightened itself. Sportacus blinked, stared at his ceiling.

He felt exhausted. Tired, so tired. He hated getting sick. He never got sick back home but here, in this world of men, his immune system struggled to adjust to the human diseases

The seasonal flu had hit early this year and he had no defenses. He'd been too late in keeping his distance.

His dreams had been feverish, fragmented, and he'd been unable to tell truth and visions apart.

His mother had been there, scolding him gently as she put cool cloth on his forehead. His brother had taken care of him as he'd had all those years ago when they'd roomed together during training.

Robbie had been there, his eyes kind and serious, his big hands gentle and his voice soft. 

Quiet muttering somewhere at his side and ...

Sportacus had seen strange things in his feverish dreams, things that at the time had made perfect sense. 

This didn't make sense.

Perhaps he was still dreaming?

Sportacus blinked and...

Robbie was still here.

The man was curled up in his orange chair and scowled at the ceiling while muttering under his breath. 

Confused Sportacus started a question that he was not sure how to finish. His voice weak but Robbie heard him nevertheless. A flash of....something... on Robbie's face and then it was gone.

\-----------

"You idiot!" Robbie stalked over, compensated the lightness of his heart with the darkness of a glare,

"Do you have any idea how I found you? Do you have any idea what you did?!

"I....got sick?" There were does whose eyes were less guileless than Sportacus' right now. Wide and confused and so very very blue.

"Hmpf, you got sick, right," Robbie aggressively spoonfed Sportacus some soup to shut him up, "do you have any idea how worried I.... the mayor was?!"

\-----------

The mayor hadn't been overly worried. Hadn't worried at all in fact. 

Robbie had strolled through the blessedly deserted streets, the town had been quiet with all the kids sick and lazing about in their homes.

It was quiet until the mayor had another gardening accident and fell from the tree that he was pruning right at the moment Robbie passed by. Mollified by the peaceful afternoon Robbie generously assumed it wás an accident and not an attempt at his life and yanked the gardening shears from where they'd buried themselves in the fence inches away from Robbie's head, "Mayor."

"Mr. Rotten," came it muffled from the heap on the ground that was their town's leader. Bearing in mind that the mayor had always been kind to him Robbie helped the man up, leaned against the fence as the mayor dusted himself off and, trying to sound nonchalant, asked, "Is that Blue Elf out of town?"

Sportacus was suspiciously absent. Granted, the mayor was unharmed but still...

"No, no, I don't think so. His airship is still there. Though I suppose that doesn't mean anything, he could be out on foot. He has all this energy you know..."

Robbie did know. 

The streets were unsettling deserted and Robbie went home. Reviewed the footage from the last few days . Not a trace of Sportacus. 

In his curiosity he'd decided to check out hero's airship.

And found one very sick Elf.

\-----------

A week later there was a knock on the hatch of Robbie's lair and a bright smile greeted Robbie,

"I'm no longer contagious."

"Good for you. You're still a pest though."

"Am I?" Biceps flexed as Sportacus folded his arms across his chest and Robbie felt his cheeks heat as he remembered the spectacular sight was without that pesky shirt obscuring the view.

Wondered if he was getting sick as he was suddenly short of breath.

Robbie hastily looked back up, found that Sportacus was still smiling at him. No longer as bright but softer, warmer. Had he come closer?

"Robbie, thank you."

Robbie hitched his shoulders up and bit his lip, "Whatever." 

"A thank you is customary I think."

There was something in Sportacus' voice, something Robbie had never heard before. It was light and teasing but there was an undertone of... nerves? ... hope? Sportacus' eyes as blue as the skies but there was something else there... 

'"What... what did you have in mind?" a breathless stutter. He'd wanted the question to come out as suspicious but Sportacus was still too close and how long had Sportacus' hand been on his hip? 

Sportacus' eyes dipped to Robbie's lips and back up. 

Oh.

_Oh._

Yes.

\-----------


End file.
